Homecoming
by BlakliteLuminus
Summary: The year is 2396. The Apocalypse has long come and gone, and humanity is struggling to rebuild and return to its former glory days of the Golden Age, before the Coming of the Rifts and the introduction of new and fantastic creatures and beings to Earth. Now adults, Sealand and Wy set out to find their lost Nation brethren, uncovering the truth about their kind along the way.
1. E-01, C-01

Episode 01: Welcome to the New World

Chapter 01

_Shit, shit, shit!_ Sealand swore silently to himself, pressed up against the wall as he was with Caliber-X's psi-blade at his throat. Try and reach as much as he wanted, his guns lay uselessly on the floor. _It wasn't supposed to go like this. England…_

"Arthur, stop!" he shouted, though he had little hope it would do anything. Between England's amnesia and that monster, Mrrlyn's, mind control magic, he'd have better luck growing a set of wings and flying away. He'd been lucky enough tonight that Mrrlyn hadn't arrived yet from Stonehenge, though doubtlessly, in the few minutes that his intrusion had been discovered, the creature was on its way. And when it arrived, when he would be made to kneel before it, the monster would surely kill him.

If his brother didn't kill him first, that was.

"How dare you steal away into my castle, attempt to assassinate me in my own chambers, and then make demands of a king! Now tell me, else I'll cut your throat: why do you address me in such a familiar manner?"

Face-to-face as they were, it gave Sealand the golden opportunity to really study how much his brother had changed. Physically, England looked pretty much the same except that his hair was longer and he had a beard (it had always made Peter shiver just trying to imagine England with facial hair, but now that it was a reality it was just plain…wrong). Mentally, it was an entirely different picture. Looking into what should have been familiar emerald eyes was instead like staring at a stranger. Arthur didn't recognize him at all; he couldn't remember his own past, or even fathom the concept of a Nation, let alone know that he was one.

Not that England would recognize Sealand even if he did remember him; three hundred some years of surviving in a post-apocalyptic landscape had given Sealand the look of a young man who had seen the world fall to pieces. Not to mention the stubble, and the fact that he now stood a few inches taller than his older brother (what should have been an ego boost had it not been for the blade at his throat).

Point being, there was little left of England in there to struggle against the created life that was King Arr'thuu, the ruler of New Camelot. It should have been the most defeated moment of his life, but somehow Sealand was still able to cling to hope that his brother could be retrieved from within his own mind. Something about the way he had posed his question…like he was struggling for a memory that was just beyond his grasp.

"I'm your younger brother, Peter Kirkland, Sealand."

England, or rather Arr'thuu, narrowed his eyes. "I have no siblings."

"Yes, you do: three brothers by blood, and a sister, but you two never got along." Sealand couldn't help but smile slightly at a memory of Ireland smacking England over the head with an unexpected skillet. "Look, your name isn't Arr'thuu, it's Arthur Kirkland. You're the Nation England, and you practically ruled the world once, way before the Cataclysm that is. You like tea, and Shakespeare, embroidery, and watching football on the telly. You're irritating, cynical, grouchy, caring, protective, and a right stick-in-the-mud at parties." He paused for a breath, and noticed that Arr'thuu's expression had softened since the beginning of his impromptu speech. "You're my big brother, and I came here to rescue you."

For a long few seconds, it appeared that Arr'thuu couldn't make up his mind whether to believe him, or call him crazy. Any other individual would have disposed of Sealand simply for being such a terrible liar after the shock of the incredulous story wore off (even though it was all completely true, England _was_ the stick-in-the-mud at any festivity). So why had Arr'thuu let go of him, and backed away? And why was Caliber-X's psi-blade fading away to plain metal?

Then there was a fierce pounding on the door just before it shattered into splinters. In charged several Nexus knights meant to guard their king from harm. Before Sealand could even think to grab his guns off the floor, they were rushing at him, swords in hand.

_It wasn't supposed to be this way..._he thought, bracing himself for the sharp pain of blades. _The future was never supposed to be like this._

* * *

Time for a brief explanation.

This fic was originally posted on LiveJournal, and is still being posted there, under the Post-Apocalyptic prompt. This version, here on , is the more edited version. Due to this, chapters will be posted daily until the episode is over. There will be large gaps between when I post the end of one episode and the beginning of another, since part of the editing process is seeing how all the chapters in an episode end up working together as a whole. In comparison, chapters are posted weekly on LJ, but may not include extra details, and even whole extra scenes available here on .

The story takes place in the world of Rifts, the RPG by Palladium. It features a post-apocalyptic Earth in which magic, science, technology, and psionics all come together in a science fiction/fantasy setting. Basically, whether it's real or imagined, it exists in the realm of Rifts.

I will be using some artistic licensing in some areas, however, for the sake of the plot. If you are familiar with Rifts, and happen to spot something that simply does not work in Rifts, and the wider Palladium universe, it was probably intentionally changed, so please excuse it.


	2. E-01, C-02

Episode 01: Welcome to the New World

Chapter 02

_19 hours prior…_

After ten unsuccessful minutes of trying to convince his brain to fall back asleep, Sealand regretfully shoved aside the blankets to sit up on the mattress. As cold as the metal was, he couldn't help but sigh in relief as his naked feet touched the floor. Contact with their larger manifestation was a comfort to Nations that no human could ever comprehend. Humans couldn't exist separately from other parts of themselves, not that it was disadvantageous to them. For one, humans could settle wherever they wanted, but a Nation would always feel the overwhelming drive to return home.

It was for this reason that Sealand could not return to the land of slumber. Today, the reconnaissance group sent out to what used to be France was returning. While this didn't necessarily signify good news since it probably meant that they had failed in their latest mission, Sea couldn't help but feel a mixture of relief and excitement. It had been two weeks since he'd last seen _her_, after all.

Rising from the bed, he shuffled along to the attached bathroom, grabbing some clean clothes on the way. He had to look official today, so standard issue Guard uniform it was. Sans power armour, of course. Though, he briefly considered arming himself, at least with one hand gun or something. Then again, the Prince didn't appreciate weapons at meetings. Ah, well, one wouldn't hurt, especially if it was hidden. After the near assassination of Prince Roger fifty years ago by a Gargoyle right in the middle of negotiations with Triax, Sealand didn't go anywhere without a means of protecting his royals.

Due to the positioning of the room's furniture, Sea couldn't help but glance at himself in the mirror and smirk. It was the same face he'd worn for two hundred years, but every time he re-met another Nation, an incident that didn't happen often, unfortunately, he was reminded of just how much he'd changed, for better and for worse. The determined eyes and carefree smile of that kid from long ago were still there, but the mask of a hardened nineteen year old had slipped overtop. Not to mention the soon-to-be-removed stubble and neatly trimmed eyebrows (unfortunately, the Curse of Eyebrows dictated that they remain a bit bushier than normal, much to Sealand's ire).

More than just his face had changed, but Sea didn't need a mirror to ponder such things. Stepping into the shower, he remembered tracking his height as he grew older after the Great Cataclysm. It was how he kept his memories of the other Nations fresh as he first surpassed Latvia, then Finland, and even England. By the time he'd stopped growing, he assumed he was probably on par with America, and Canada by default. If only he'd been this tall ages ago, his retrospectively childish plan to impersonate the quieter North American might have worked out. Still, he was nowhere near as tall as Sweden, the closest thing to a father he'd ever had (since everyone knew Finland was totally the woman in the relationship). Were they even still alive out there? Would they ever be able to see how much their little boy had grown up?

Then again, maybe it was better that they'd never know about all the things he'd had to do up until this point in time…

Turning off the water and passing the towel over his soaking mop of hair, less depressing thoughts resurfaced in Sealand's mind. Decades upon decades of training, fighting, and, in general, working had transformed his new, awkward, gangly teenaged body into a much more toned but still rather thin (gaining muscle mass was _not_ easy) version of the same thing. All in all, he supposed he was kind of handsome. This going off of hearing a group of high school aged girls deem him 'oogling material' as he walked past them (kinda awkward, but still flattering), and being hit on once a week at least. Any other male probably would have jumped at the opportunity, but not Sealand. He only had one girl on his mind.

For now, though, he had to push away all distractions. With every article of clothing he put on, he worked on focusing his concentration like the Druids had taught him. First, he'd greet the team as they returned, escort the leader to the meeting room, and sit in on the conversation. He had to be ready for an attack at any angle of any sort from any creature. As a member of the Sealand Guard and as a Nation, his duty was to protect. What came after would be dealt with when the time came.

Leaving his quarters, Sealand headed down the hall without a moment to spare. Had he followed the wishes of nearly every single one of his Princes, he'd have moved all his junk down to the lower levels ages ago. He hadn't, of course, because being on the lower levels didn't afford him very much. Up here on the Platform, he would always be one of the first to repel an attack, and few things worked better to boost the Guards' morale than to see their Nation fighting alongside them. Besides, the Main Complex was far too crowded for his liking. He'd been born from war, raised by soldiers, abandoned for years with little company but what the sea afforded him, and the first one hundred some years of his existence as a true, albeit still unrecognized for the first half, Nation had been with fewer than ten people at any given time. He belonged topside.

"Sealand! Good morning!" Called a man likewise dressed in the Sealand Guard uniform. The buff blond had been reclining in his chair looking rather bored when Sea had arrived, but stood to greet his Nation.

"Morning, Hall," Sealand replied, grinning as the two exchanged firm handshakes through the slit beneath the glass that marked off the Coat Check from the rest of the corridor. Well, it was called the Coat Check, but it was for holding and inspecting the personal effects, mostly weapons, of visitors. Theoretically, one could still drop off their coat here, so it wasn't a complete misnomer. Tilting to look around the bulky Guard before him, Sea shouted into the room, "Morning, Moore!"

Without looking away from the computer screen, the second Guard, who was of Spanish descent, nodded before resuming his typing. It was the most he was going to get from the workaholic.

"So, here to see your girlfriend?" Hall teased, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. Even after ten years, Sealand couldn't help but blush a little at the implications.

"I swear, Hall, one of these days-"

"You'll finally get laid? Halleluiah, motherfucker!"

"You are _so_ lucky showing up to a meeting in blood-splattered clothing is considered rude," Sealand said, smiling all the while. Just as he was speaking, a small orange light attached to the wall lit up.

"There's your girlfriend. Better go get yourself some, Sea, before I tire her out tonight."

"In your dreams, Hall," he responded before heading towards the door once more. As an afterthought, he shouted, "See ya, Moore!" and was rewarded with an unseen nod.

Unlatching the heavy, metal door, Hall's final statement was nearly drowned out by the rush of wind brought on by the helicopter powering down outside on Helipad B. "Sometimes, man! She _is_ pretty hot."

Out on the deck, Sea began to approach the recently landed helicopter even as the doors opened and four men hopped out. Before the helicopter's blades had even stopped spinning, they began to unload boxes of equipment. He would have recognized them even without the Guard field gear. They looked to each other, nodded, and Davis smiled knowingly as he motioned back towards the cab of the helicopter.

He briefly considered face-palming at the sight, but instead was forced to keep his jaw from falling open. Where Sea tried to distance himself from the past, Wy made it her goal to never forget. She looked pretty much like a taller version of her old self, but with a few noticeable differences. Wy had also grown to look about nineteen, and with that came a womanliness that she flaunted with ease. Her khakis were nothing less than booty shorts, and her cropped tank top sported significantly more cleavage. The pink smock did little to hide anything, open as it was and stopping at mid-thigh.

Not even her hair had changed, though it did seem a little longer from what he remembered. The only things that seemed different about Wy were her shoes (now a set of military grade boots, though the tops had been left to droop down) and her missing ascot. Whenever he'd asked her about the ascot, she always changed the subject, as if hiding a painful memory.

The thing that had changed the most about Wy was her personality. When they'd been younger, she'd always tried to be the most mature of the micronations, scolding them for getting into trouble, and trying to take care of them whenever someone got scratched up. Sealand wasn't sure what had done it, but it was now as an adult that Wy decided she wanted to be a kid. She still took things seriously when the time called for it, but for the most part one would describe her as bubbly.

Jumping somewhat gracefully onto the helipad, Wy noticed him, shouted "Sea!", and ran up to him to give him a firm hug. As politely as possible, Sealand attempted to pry her off without making it seem like he didn't want the hug. He was pretty sure everyone was watching them by now. Unsuccessful as he was, he settled on patting her on the back instead. A glance over Wy's shoulder revealed several of the Guards giving him thumb ups. In return, he gave them the finger.

"Hey, Wy. Uh, what happened to your protective gear?" He asked as they pulled away.

"Oh, that heavy, uniform stuff? It was getting kind of hot, and you know how I like my freedom of movement, so I took it off." Looking up to his shocked face, she must have interpreted it as horror. "Don't worry, though! I didn't lose any of it. I treat borrowed stuff with care." Her smile was bright enough to make the sun jealous.

_I just had to fall for this one girl, didn't I?_ thought Sealand, shaking his head at her antics. Regardless of her actions and his feelings, they had a meeting to go to. As the leader of the expedition, she was to be debriefed on the latest happenings in France. Speaking of which…"You didn't find him, did you?"

She shook her head sadly. "No. There's no trace of him anywhere, but…it doesn't mean he's gone. Probably locked up in some Gargoyle castle dungeon, or something."

"Yeah," Sealand agreed, though he didn't share her weak optimism. France had probably died long ago, maybe even before the Cataclysm. They'd be lucky to find a body, but at least even a body provided enough evidence to put their minds at ease. There were just so many Nations left unaccounted for after the Apocalypse. "Come on, let's get going."


	3. E-01, C-03

Episode 01: Welcome to the New World

Chapter 03

_It wasn't supposed to be this way..._he thought, bracing himself for the sharp pain of blades. _The future was never supposed to be like this._

He hadn't expected what happened next. Watching the blades of the Nexus knights glimmer sharp and bright in the firelight, Sealand didn't even have enough time to decide whether to fight or escape. Concentrating to use his powers would take too long, his guns were practically at the knights' feet, it would be nearly impossible to dodge that many swords, and the dagger at his calf would not be able to deflect that much steel and strength. He was out of options, but refused to give up. At least with the knife, he could do some damage before his head got chopped off.

"No!" Arr'thuu (or was it Arthur?) shouted beside him, in the middle of raising his hand to stop the knights. Was he remembering something, remembering Sealand, remembering his life as a Nation? Whatever was happening, it had shocked Sea just long enough that he was left defenseless against the knights rushing towards him.

Just then, a huge wave rushed from the open doorway to engulf the knights. It crashed into them with enough force to throw them all at the farthest wall with a great clank of metal on stone. The wave had also managed to knock over Arr'thuu, and subsequently pull Caliber-X from his grasp. With few places to go, the water ended up pooling around Sealand's ankles, though it left the rest of him, thankfully, dry.

But the surprise wasn't over yet. From around the doorway, Wy came rushing into the room, splashing water around as she went. He opened his mouth to ask her what she was doing here, but was quickly silenced by her firm grip on his wrist and her own exclamation. "There's no time, come on!"

Glancing back into the room as he crossed through the doorway, Sea spotted Arr'thuu lifting himself from off of the floor. For a split second, green eyes met blue, and Sea could have sworn he saw a spark of recognition.

Down the hall they ran, past the curious and frightened faces of the servants. An alarm must have been sounded, because when they reached the stairwell, they discovered two more Nexus knights waiting for them. "This way!" Wy shouted, pulling him along through an adjacent hallway. Unfortunately, a few meters of running revealed another pair of knights charging at them from in front. With the two behind them hot on their tails, they tried the nearest door only to find it locked. Trying the door on the other wall, they managed to get it open and close the door before the knights could get them. As fast as possible, they locked the door, and pushed a wardrobe in front of it. It would buy them a minute, maybe.

Looking around the room, they realized that they had trapped themselves. There were no other exits besides the window, but they weren't about to get up and walk away from a twenty meter fall. "Shit!" Wy swore. "I guess we'll have to fight."

"No, wait," Sealand said as a thought occurred to him. They were on the north side now, probably fifteen meters from the stairwell if he remembered the diagrams correctly. "Wy, come here." She did as she was bid, confused all the while. Together, they stood by the outside-facing wall. "We should be above the laundry room, right?"

"Uhh, I guess?"

Without further ado, Sealand gently grabbed Wy and pulled her in. "Keep close, and hold your breath." Clutching his jacket between her fingers, she nodded and took one last breath. Assured of her absolute cooperation, Sea proceeded to close his eyes and focus in on the source of his magic. A piece of shattered wardrobe barely missed their heads as they fell through the stone floor like it was empty air.

It took Wy most of her will just to keep from screaming as they soared down past two bedrooms, a storage closet, the kitchens, and finally into the laundry room. The feeling of phasing through solid objects mixed with the feeling of falling did not make for a pleasant trip, but it took all of two seconds for them to escape otherwise certain death. Still, landing safe and sound in a pile of, albeit, dirty laundry didn't mean that she _didn't_ have a bone to pick with Sea.

"That was reckless," she exclaimed, digging her way out of the pile of clothes to stand firmly on her own two feet. "You know how dangerous it is for you to use temporal magic! Especially here, under Mrrlyn's nose." She glared at his unmoving form staring at the ceiling atop the laundry. "I bet you weren't even sure we'd actually survive that fall, or not get stuck in a floor." Standing over her companion's still form, Wy allowed her gaze and tone to soften before she addressed him again, though not without rolling her eyes first. "Sea, are you okay?"

"Sooooo…tired…" She heard him mumble. He still hadn't moved an inch.

"Alright, come on, bud. Up we go." Grabbing his arm a little roughly, she dragged Sealand to his feet. He was a little wobbly from having used too much magic energy so recently (phasing yourself was one thing, but having someone tag along certainly wasn't easy), but with every step they took towards the slightly ajar door he seemed to regain some strength. They were going to need it for what came next; getting out of New Camelot.

On the other side of the door, they found themselves in the courtyard not far from the stables. Racing towards the series of buildings, they could hear the castle behind them all a-clatter with activity. The gate would be closing any second now.

Leaving Sealand to lean against a stall, Wy ran down the length of the stable searching for a sufficient means of transportation. She returned with two bionic horses.

"Wy!"

"What? Are you going to say that we shouldn't steal from Nexus knights even though they are trying to kill us?"

"No, it's just…" He looked away.

"Just what? These bionic horses are the fastest things around here, and time is of the essence, you know."

He muttered something incoherent from where she was hastily tacking up the beasts. "What was that, Sea?"

"…I…don't know how to, you know, operate one of these."

Wy took a moment to openly stare at him. "Are you serious?"

"Well, _sorry_ for not putting horse riding lessons higher on my list of things to do to survive in a post-apocalyptic world. Besides, horses don't exactly occur in abundance in Sealand, at any point in time."

"Whatever, just do as I do," she commanded, tying his horse to hers before mounting her own. It took him three tries, but he was eventually at least on the damn thing. "Just tap its sides to go, and follow me." And just like that, they were off, racing across the courtyard as shouts and arrows rained down on them. By some miracle, they weren't hit even once, and were able to make it past the gate before it could even close halfway.

But that didn't mean they were in the clear. Undoubtedly, they would be pursued; the question was, by _what_ exactly?


	4. E-01, C-04

Episode 01: Welcome to the New World

Chapter 04

_17 hours prior…_

The trip down from the Platform into the Main Complex was uneventful, and oddly silent. Both Nations knew they'd have time to catch up after the meeting, and so kept their comments to themselves. Instead, they focused on their thoughts and the view.

The first hundred or so feet of Elevator Shaft B below the Platform was made of plexiglass, allowing its passengers to gaze out into the blue waters of the English Channel (significantly deeper due to the reappearance of Atlantis displacing ocean waters worldwide). After that, the elevator continued down through the ocean floor another hundred feet before at last reaching their desired floor. After that, they found their way fairly quickly to the designated meeting room, in which some of Sealand's highest ranked politicians sat waiting.

Silence reigned in the room for quite some time following Wy's report. This was the two hundred and first mission to fail in discovering France's whereabouts, and the hundred and ninety-sixth mission to fail in finding any of the Nations. By now, everyone in the room expected failure more than success, but it still came as a blow for such things to turn out to be true.

"Perhaps we should abandon Operation Marianne, and Albion by extension, to focus on other projects," Minister King suggested in the most sensible yet sympathetic tone she could muster. Still, Sealand couldn't help feeling just a tad angry; they couldn't give up, not with so many questions left unanswered. He'd never been very close to France, but there'd been a short period just before the Cataclysm when the older Nation had taken him in as a protégéé and taught him how to better annoy England. His brother had never known frustration until the two of them had teamed up against him. His brother…

"Perhaps you're right, Miriam," conceded Secretary Mehra. "We've searched up and down this side of Europe, and, though we've recovered the Netherlands, Belgium, Spain, and the remains of Portugal, found no trace of France. Retrieving England is simply out of the question at this moment in time However, Eastern, Central, and Southern Europe have remained mostly unexplored. Empirically, the success rate in that region is quite high, considering it only took two missions to secure Austria ninety years ago."

Clenching the arms of his chair, Sealand had to force himself not to speak up. His position in these meetings was precarious. The Nation Recovery Project had begun from his insistence, and had grown under his supervision. Though he'd given up its leadership position just over a hundred years ago to become more personally involved in the missions (among other reasons), Sea still felt the NRP was his responsibility. Just as he felt it was his responsibility to ensure the safe recovery of his fellow Nations.

At the same time, he had a duty to his people and his government. Their interests had to come first else he couldn't even call himself the Nation of Sealand. Not only that, but he had a duty to uphold the monarchy, to represent his Prince and maintain peace and order. The needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few.

Still, he couldn't just give up…not on France, or Western Europe, or even the world. Especially not on his big brother…

But before he could even open his mouth, Wy was speaking up. "Need I remind you, Mrs. Mehra, that Austria's recovery involved the full permission and support of the NGR? To be quite honest, it was the Principality of Sealand that helped the NGR, and not the other way around. Not to mention that there is a significantly higher number of Austrian descendants Post-Apocalypse than there are Frenchmen and women. It's easier to find living Nations than dead ones, Portugal notwithstanding since she was recovered alongside Spain. The task we have taken up in Western Europe regarding the recovery of France is a much more difficult mission, empirically speaking, of course."

Wy's speech effectively silenced all the officials in the room. She'd delivered her words seriously, but as she quickly turned to glance at Sealand (who, admittedly, had been staring at her during her intellectual outburst), she flashed him a grin and a wink.

"We can't ignore these facts that Ms. Thompson has presented to us," Chancellor Vaughn stated in his deep, rumbling voice, classic for someone of some dwarven heritage. "It might be best to seek an answer in between. The latest expedition into France only just came back. Sending another immediately will not likely yield new results. However, the emissary from Triax is expected to arrive today to discuss new policies for co-operation. It's the perfect opportunity to bring up the possibility of extending our reach further into Europe. By the time a few missions into Continental Europe have begun and ended, it'll be time again to send another expedition into France." Secretary Mehra and Minister King nodded in polite agreement. The ever silent and enigmatic Secretary Grennen likewise nodded, though more curtly. It was never easy trying to figure out just what was going on inside a Dramin's head.

But there was still one more vote to be had. "What Dillan has suggested is quite pragmatic, and within Sealand's ability to achieve at the moment," Prince Christopher acknowledged. He might have been young (considering twenty-three was young for humans), but he was just as well loved and respected for his wise choices as his kind heart. "Of course, we can't cement these plans yet. Without the NGR's permission, expeditions into the rest of Europe will not be possible. We can't sacrifice our good relations for this project alone." A round of nods passed through the room. "We will reconvene a week from today at the same hour to further discuss the future of NRP. Any objections?" Neither hand nor voice was raised. "Excellent."

As Prince Christopher rose to his feet, so did every other person in the room, a sign of respect for their monarch. Opening the door to reveal the Guards posted outside, he called over his shoulder before exiting the room. "I will be expecting your presence on the helipad at 2 p.m. sharp, Mr. Kirkland. Do try not to assault the emissary this time."

After the Prince left, the other officials in the room gathered their belongings and, likewise, began exiting the room. Wy was prepared to follow this protocol before Sealand groaned and flopped back in his chair, burying his face in his arms on the table. He proceeded to mumble something incoherent.

"What was that, Sea?" Wy asked good-naturedly, rearranging her flower scrunchie.

"Life sucks," he said loudly enough to be heard.

"Oh, come now. Just because you have to go greet the Germans doesn't mean you have to spend time with them. Chris knows better than to keep you locked up in a room for longer than a few hours."

"It's not that," Sealand huffed. "These talks are going to be important for determining future relations with the NGR."

Wy waited as patiently as she could for him to continue. Unfortunately, patience was not her strong point. "So?"

"…Triax is going to be there."

"Ya think?"

"Chris practically said so. Triax is the only German I've punched in the face more than once."

Wy's expression translated to 'not impressed'. "You've punched Gilbert, acting as a peaceful delegate, more than once?"

"It's complicated," Sealand mumbled, hiding his face in his arms again.

"Oh, I see how it is now," she piped up cheerfully. Wary, Sealand lifted his head to look at her and raise an eyebrow questioningly. "You're always cranky before a spot of brekkie. Besides, I'm kinda peckish myself. And I wouldn't mind a shower after having spent two weeks sneaking around in the wilds." Grabbing his wrist in a merciless grip, Wy pulled Sealand to his feet, towing him along as she made her way towards the mess hall. It took several seconds just to find his footing and a good pace to keep up with her. "And after that, you can take me shopping. I was thinking about getting a new pair of gloves. Ooo, maybe something red this time, with extra fireproof enchantments…"

It was going to be a long morning…

* * *

_15 hours prior…_

"They're…perfect!" squealed Wy, flexing her fingers. They'd been shopping for only ten minutes when she had spotted the red leather fingerless gloves from a few stalls over. Among the enchantments that strengthened the gloves' durability and waterproof capabilities, they also happened to be minimally fireproof. She'd been sold before she'd even tried them on.

"How much?" she asked the stallminder, an elderly Wolfen lady who was clearly amused by Wy's antics.

"Forty credits, dearie."

Wy turned to Sealand, hope in her eyes. He stared right back, not at all about to give in to her impulsive desires. "Use your own money, Wy."

"But, Seaaaaaaaa. I really, really want these gloves. I _need_ these gloves."

"It's only forty credits," Sealand responded.

"Forty credits that I could spend on new clothes."

"Gloves are clothes."

"This is different. This is for _combat_." She grabbed his hand, as if it would help make her seem more convincing. "What if I get into a fight, and I get hurt because my gun gets knocked out of my hand by wearing the wrong gloves?"

He looked at her with a rather incredulous expression. They both knew that, gloves or no gloves, it was training that was going to get a person out of that situation. Wy wasn't relying in logic to get him to buy her the gloves; she was banking that his patience was even worse than hers. At least, he hoped that that was what she was doing. Did she know that he was maybe just a little, tiny bit not at all crazy in love with her, and so using his emotions to get him to buy things for her?

"Fine," he finally relented, covering up any trace of anxiety with annoyance. "I'll get you your stupid gloves."

"Yay! You're the best, Sea!" Wy exclaimed, tiptoeing to give him a quick peck on the cheek as he tapped his card against the scanner. He was lucky that she was already dancing away to look at another stall so as not to have to explain his blush. The elderly Wolfen gave him a knowing look as he thanked her and went to catch up with Wy.

The Marketplace was one of the most beautiful locations in Sealand. Though the more technologically-geared Shopping District had claimed one of the Domes (convex ceilings made of transparent glass facilitating a view of the underwater world just above Sealand's Main Complex), the Marketplace did far more to capture the imagination. As the magic centre of Sealand, the Marketplace was _the_ place to go for enchanted items of all shapes and sorts.

Because of this, it had attracted all kinds of D-Bees and magic users, each bringing with them their own piece of home. Every stall was decorated in its own unique style. Splashes of every colour imaginable painted every possible surface. Music filled the air, the scents of a thousand different pastries competed for the wallet of hungry passers-by, and beings from nearly every era and dimension strolled the narrow avenues.

And all this activity buzzed just below the branches and among the roots of the six storey tall trees planted and nurtured by the Druids. The oldest of trees had tops that brushed the ceiling, intertwining with each other to create a canopy beneath the reinforced concrete enchanted to reflect the sky far, far above. It was nothing short of fantastical, like a bazaar straight out of a fairy-tale.

"So," Wy began after Sealand had rejoined her. She was looking at a shelf of curiously titled books. "What's up between you and Gilbert?"

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Nope," she answered immediately, picking up a multicoloured glass orb. It was a magical item, but, unlike Sealand, Wy could neither see nor sense it.

Sea sighed. "It has to do with the Bloody Campaign."

"The extermination of monsters that the NGR and Triax orchestrated, like, decades ago?"

"Yeah, that one. It was long before you arrived in Europe, so I don't expect you to know this, but…Sealand participated in the war." She gently placed a book she'd picked up back on its table to look at him in all seriousness. He did his damndest to look anywhere but at her. "A couple hundred volunteers were sent to the continent. I was among them, but pretty soon after we got into the thick of it, I didn't want to be anymore." He paused, closed his eyes, took a deep breath. He could still hear the screams, smell the decaying bodies, see the innocent blood fly into the air. "The NGR, and Triax, their military branch, killed more than just monsters. They mowed down all the D-Bees they set their sights on. Man, woman, or child, it didn't matter if you didn't look human."

"That's…awful. Sea-"

"You don't need to apologize, Wy. You didn't start it, and I'd rather have more people know the truth than believe the lies. Anyways, that's what created the break between me and Gilbert. I know he's not the one who ordered me to shoot, but he didn't do anything to stop the slaughter. We're equally guilty, in any case."

At that moment, Wy wanted nothing more than to hold and comfort her friend. She'd seen some shit herself trying to survive in what had become of Australia. But she'd never been in a war. There was something fundamentally different between killing someone to survive, and killing someone just because they're a different race or species with different ideas and beliefs. And not from your own free will, either.

Searching around, she found the perfect distraction to take this dark topic off both of their minds. "Hey, check out these neat dresses. Are these druidic patterns? Hmmm, do you think I'd look better in navy or green?"

* * *

Note: Dramins are a D-Bee race that appears physically like humans, but with very pale skin, dark hair, and eyes that are completely black. Wolfen are also D-Bees. They resemble human-shaped wolves, similar to werewolves, but much less monstrous.


	5. E-01, C-05

Episode 01: Welcome to the New World

Chapter 05

But that didn't mean they were in the clear. Undoubtedly, they would be pursued; the question was, by _what_ exactly?

Speeding through the countryside as they were, they just couldn't seem to go fast enough. Wy had both of their horses running at an exhausting rate even for the animals' bionic parts. At any moment, a whole horde of Nexus knights could be on their tail. At least on the ground they had a chance, but what if the knights had flying mounts? Wyverns, or hovercraft? They'd be forced to hide, even if they couldn't afford to slow down.

At least Sealand could feel his strength returning. They were getting closer to the ley line every second. Even at this distance, he could sense its pure, magical energy. They'd need his abilities if they ran into trouble.

After fifteen long minutes, they were finally able to spot the tell-tale blue glow of the ley line. It was rather difficult to miss a huge wall of light slicing through the landscape. Looking back for the twentieth time to make sure he was still alright, Wy finally asked, "What's our plan of escape?"

"I hid a helicopter near the coast. As long as we aren't intercepted, it should still be there."

"How can you be sure?"

"I put it in a dimensional envelope." He could tell she was glaring at him even in the near perfect darkness. "I know, I know. Using my powers is dangerous, and I shouldn't do it."

_But you did_, Wy thought, choosing not to share. The next few minutes passed in silence, except for the rushing of wind and the stomping of metal hooves. It would have seemed almost peaceful, if not for the fear of death gripping the two Nations tightly.

They were almost at the ley line when suddenly the worst of things happened. Out of the forest behind them back crashing at least fifteen Nexus knights on their own bionic horses. And at the front of the group was a cloaked figure.

Sealand couldn't help but cry out as his whole body was wracked with pain. It was by far one of the most terrible experience of his centuries-long life. As his mind stumbled to pull itself back into a cohesive unit after the pure shock of it all, he came upon the reason for the pain. Mrrlyn was strangling his connection to all magic. But how? How was that even possible? They'd underestimated what the creature was capable of.

Fortunately, despite being on the brink of passing out from the pain, the spell wasn't going to kill him. Nations weren't beings with magic at their core; otherwise they'd have died off thousands of years earlier when the magic on Earth had originally dried up. Nonetheless, it really, really sucked, and it definitely put a hitch in their plan.

"Wy, get us to the ley line! I'm going to try and teleport us home." He was still working out how they were going to shake off Mrrlyn long enough so that he could cast the spell.

Clearly confused at what was happening to Sealand, Wy didn't bother to stop and ask questions, setting their horses as fast as they could run for the ley line. The knights were gaining on them.

A desperate minute later of being shot at by magic arrows and bullets, the pair saw the blue wall before them rise up into the night sky. It dazzled the area with a soft light, allowing the Nations to see their enemies more clearly. After crossing a shallow stream, they entered the ley line, but it wasn't enough for Sealand to fight back against Mrrlyn.

"I can't teleport us, Wy."

"What? Why not?"

"It's Mrrlyn. He's…blocking my magic somehow." He was practically doubled over in the saddle, the pain sapping the energy to even remain upright.

"Shit. Okay, so, now what?" Wy asked, as the unit of knights came barreling towards them where they'd stopped. At least she was safe from Mrrlyn's magic at this distance, having no magic-wielding capabilities herself. That wouldn't keep her safe from the knights' blades, however.

Remembering his geography, Sealand jumped off his horse and knelt facing west. Along this ley line there was a Millennium Tree at the other end. If they were lucky, it would hear their call for aid. It was worth a shot at the very least.

"Sea, they're coming down the hill!"

Pushing aside the panic, the pain, and all sensory distractions, Sealand focused his mind on the singular task of communicating with the Tree. He might not have had active psionic powers, but that didn't mean he couldn't still try. Besides, the Trees had been known to contact non-psionic and even non-magic beings before. There was no other choice at any rate.

_Great Millennium Tree, hear us now. Lend me your strength. Shield us from the evil that calls itself Mrrlyn. Protect us, save us._


	6. E-01, C-06

Episode 01: Welcome to the New World

Chapter 06

_12 hours prior…_

Back up on the Platform, Sealand found himself once again waiting for a helicopter. Except this time, he most definitely did not want to see the person who stepped out. Christopher must have noticed how he stiffened when Gilbert appeared, all smiles in that sharp suit, as the prince swiftly and secretly elbowed Sealand out of a reminder to behave.

"Greetings, Your Highness," Gilbert proclaimed as he reached their small delegation. He bowed slightly, politely, and Prince Christopher inclined his head in recognition. The three other members of Gilbert's party followed their leader's actions.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Beilschmidt, and company," the Prince responded. "I hope your trip was a pleasant one."

"Never anything less when the weather is this beautiful." Gilbert then turned to Wy who was standing beside Sealand. "Of course, the day has nothing on you, my dear Wy." Gently grasping her hand, he made a show of kissing her knuckles. Wy was clearly charmed, speaking her own hello in a much more hushed and lady-like way than usual. It took Sea all of his might not to roll his eyes at the scene.

Gilbert turned to him next, not even bothering to raise his hand for a handshake. They both knew Sealand wouldn't accept it. "Hello, Peter. Long time no see."

_Not long enough,_ Sealand thought. "Triax," was the only reply he deigned give to Gilbert.

"Still as cheerful and welcoming as ever," the German Nation said sarcastically. He turned away just in time to miss Sealand's scowl. "If you would, Your Highness," Gilbert continued, motioning towards the nearest lift. Then, with a superfluous amount of sophistication and a distinct lack of subtly, Gilbert took Wy by the arm and began to escort her towards the elevators, chatting about whatever polite conversational nonsense came to mind.

It was like this that both parties proceeded to made their way down into the Main Complex, a secretly seething Sealand lagging behind.

* * *

_8 hours prior…_

It had finally happened. He was finally dead and in Hell. There could be no other way of describing the situation he was currently in other than hellish, so surely he was correct.

"Stop bitching, Sea," Wy attempted to convince him for the millionth time as they walked down the hall towards their doom. "It's a dinner, not a war."

"I'd rather risk the nukes…" Sealand mumbled under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," he responded sulkily. "Can't we just skip out? We can break each other's arms, and get sent to the sick bay. It'll be perfect."

Oh, no. She was doing it. The _look_. The look that said she was both incredibly annoyed and disappointed at the same time, but you were going to do as you were told, so help me gods…

"I didn't just spend an hour trying to look nice just for you to pussy out. I don't want to be here anymore than you, but there's free food on the line. So, man up already."

She…did have a point. She'd spent a lot of time on just her hair alone, finally getting those curls into something classier than her side-pony (not that it wasn't usually classy, or adorable). When at last she'd finally emerged from her room so they could go together to this stupid dinner, Sealand had just stared at her for an embarrassingly long moment. The navy dress she'd made him buy for her earlier was not particularly revealing, but it did accent her modest curves nicely. Wy'd even replaced her boots with high heels.

The best, however, was that she still looked like herself. She didn't need to cover her face in make-up, or put on the most expensive-looking jewels she may have owned. She was still just Wy.

Also, the free food. Couldn't forget about that.

"Come on, fancypants. A little chatting, a little dancing, and we're home free."

"Don't call me that, Wy." He really didn't need to be reminded of how he was wearing a suit. It felt so…unnatural.

Standing outside the doors, the pair steeled themselves. Neither of them was fond of formal situations, but for the sake of free food, they were prepared to go into the lions' den. "On the count of three," Wy decided. "One, two, three."

Considering they were only hosting a small delegation, Sealand's top brass had chosen one of the smaller rooms they used for party purposes. While the room had been created with late 19th century high society fashion in mind, the _real_ fancy stuff (like the ceiling appearing further away than it actually was) was all done with holograms. Unless one got exceedingly close to one of the holograms, you'd never be able to tell real from fake.

One thing Sealand noticed was that there were almost no magical enhancements in the room: no floating chandelier, no self-playing instruments. In fact, he was the most magically imbued thing in the room right then. The only D-Bees around were a few of his own top officials. Clearly his politicians were trying to appeal to the D-Bee-hating Germans…

"Alright," he whispered to Wy as they neared the nearest group of politicians in discussion. "Focus on the objective. This is an in-and-out mission. If we become separated, we'll meet up to the left of the main doors in one hour."

"Roger," Wy agreed with a devious smirk. Things did not bode well for the hors d'oeuvres.

Weaving through the crowd, they'd made it about halfway to the tables stacked with food before Sealand was snatched up by a group of minor politicians. He signaled to Wy to continue onwards, to which she nodded and did just so. They asked him whether the rumours were true, about the NGR proposing greater economic cooperation, and about Triax supposedly pushing an arms deal. He responded briefly, but truthfully: he honestly had no idea what was going on. Besides, the delegates only just got here! How was he, or anyone, supposed to know anything yet? In any case, he eventually managed to pry himself away from their discussions after fifteen minutes of inane chatter and gossip.

When he finally got to the buffet table, Wy was gone. As were many of the hors d'oeuvres if the half empty plates were anything to go by. She _had_ been here, so where was she now?

Suddenly, a hand landed on his shoulder. Judging by the gruffness of the act and the fact that way too much force had gone into it to have allowed a human to remain standing, it was more than likely Prussia. A second later and the voice beside him confirmed this suspicion.

"Enjoying the party, Peter?"

"That's Sealand to you, Triax."

Gilbert had the nerve to look wounded, but a glare from the younger Nation had him biting back his sarcastic remark. "Fine, _Sealand_. My question still stands." He twisted around to face Sealand, arms crossed, leaning against the table.

"I'm not here to socialize," Sea responded curtly. _Especially not with you._

"That's apparent, considering you're over here by yourself. Speaking of which, where's Wy?"

"That's none of your concer-"

"You lost her, didn't you?"

Sealand forced himself to take a deep breath. Punching Gilbert in the face was frowned upon, but punching Gilbert in the face at a party would be even worse. There'd be no way of covering that up in a room full of people. "Look, Gilb-"

The Nation in question put his hands up in a half-assed attempt at surrender. "What you do with your woman is your prerogative. But, I will say this…" The former Nation of Prussia walked up to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Sealand. To any observers, he could have just been brushing past the blond on his way back into the congregation. "Mrrlyn will be at Stonehenge tonight, and the king will not be with him. If you're going to take this chance, just be careful, alright?"

"Gilbert…thank-"

"Don't mention it," the elder said, unnecessarily shoving Sealand out of the way. The blond watched him leave before he headed towards the main doors.

* * *

While Sealand had been caught up talking to his officials, Wy had successfully found her way to the food. The sight that greeted her was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. Only the fanciest of foods had made it here, and she sure as Hell wasn't going to let the effort go to waste.

She'd had her fill, and stolen a few nibblets for later, all before Sealand could catch up. Looking around, she couldn't spot him from where she was standing. She supposed she could walk around the room a bit, and, if all else failed, go to the designated meet up area and wait for him. The worse that could happen to him in this room was death by boring conversation…Then again, perhaps this place _was_ more dangerous than the not-so-empty wastelands of Europe…

"You know, Wy, you don't have to attend these lame parties if you're hungry," Prince Christopher said as he approached her, bodyguards watching from a distance. His genuine smile was quite disarming, making it easy for him to move them to the side somewhat. "Sealand's hospitality will always be open to you."

She couldn't help but smile a bit nervously at being caught, though she tried to play it off by acting her usual self. "I think Sealand missed the memo on that one. He's always on my ass about spending too much."

"Don't blame yourself. He's always been like that. When he used to babysit Sarah and I as kids, we'd always bug him to buy us ice cream, and toys, and new clothes. It usually took quite a bit of whining, but we eventually got what we wanted. He's sweet on kids, you know."

Chris's gaze became rather distant, as if he was reliving a memory from long ago. Wy had arrived in the principality about ten years ago, so she hadn't been around to watch Prince Roger's children grow up. In fact, she'd been too late to even meet the previous prince. Sealand had later told her that both the prince and his eldest child, Sarah, had died in a freak accident. Their helicopter had gotten caught up in a ley line storm over continental Europe, and crashed. There had been no survivors.

And so, Chris had become not only next in line but the Prince himself in a matter of seconds. That was a lot of responsibility to put on a twelve year old, but somehow he'd turned out all right.

"Wy, can I ask a favour of you?"

"Of course."

"Look after Sealand, 'kay? He's going to do something stupid tonight, and he'll need someone to be there to get him out of trouble."

Wy could only nod. Supposedly, the Bates family had earned some Gypsy blood through Chris's grandfather's mother. Consecutive generations had received no magical abilities from it, other than the strange and vaguely useful ability to have premonitions. Still, they were nothing to scoff at if Princess Sarah's foretelling of the last major Gargoyle raid was to be believed.

"I have to get back to mediating between bickering, drunk underlings." This got a chuckle out of the Nation. "But Wy, you're the best thing to have happened to Sealand in a long time. He may not always show it, but your friendship means a lot to him. And I know you feel the same. Protect each other, that's all I ask." And with that, he was strolling casually back into the mass of people.

After circling around the room, she finally decided to just head to the place they were supposed to meet up. She'd be early, but she could wait. Wy hadn't even reached the main doors when she noticed Sealand slipping out of the room. Remembering Prince Christopher's words, she hurried herself along as fast as she could in heels.

Out in the hallway, she spotted Sealand already quite some distance away. "Sea!" she called out, awkwardly running to catch up to him. Thankfully, he stopped to look back at her.

"Wy…"

"Hey, so, I got the grub." She lifted her clutch as proof. On the outside, it was quite small, just a little hand wallet really. On the inside, it was able to fit as much as a duffle bag, thanks to Sealand's dimensional magicking from way back. It was in these types of situations that the thing proved the most useful. "What are we going to do now? Play board games? Go for a dip in the ocean? A bit of target practice with the ol' pistol?"

Sealand gave her a quizzical look at first. Instead of appearing a little unimpressed shortly thereafter, he seemed a bit nervous. He was planning something. "Uh, how about we go back to my place and watch some old movies?"

"Sure!" Wy agreed. As long as she was still around to keep tabs on him, anything was fine with her.

* * *

_2 hours prior…_

They'd gotten through three pre-Cataclysm movies before Sealand had pretended to fall asleep. Keeping up with the ruse, Wy waited about twenty minutes before also pretending to fall asleep. She must have been convincing enough, because minutes later she felt the mattress move as Sealand got off the bed. He rustled around in the room for a bit, before the telltale click of the latch sounded as he opened and closed the door.

Wy waited a bit before getting up and peeking outside of the room. Sealand was gone. Pulling out a small instrument from her pocket, she checked the status of the tracking device she'd clandestinely snuck into Sea's pants pocket. Judging by how the coordinates were steadily changing, Wy was assured that her plan was working.

With Sealand's status secured, she headed out to find Gilbert. He had to have been involved; no one else could have riled Sea up that way. In any case, he had the means to get her to wherever Sea was going. As a fellow Nation, he'd certainly help out…right?

It took a bit of time, but at last she'd found Prussia's room by relying on her, ahem, womanly charms to coax little information out of the security team. Though it was past midnight, the older Nation was still awake enough to have opened the door at her insistent knocking.

"Wy? What are you doing here?"

"You said something to Sea, didn't you?" She had put on her most intimidating voice, but still Gilbert didn't seem to want to say anything. "He's gone, Gilbert. And he's going to be in trouble if we don't find him."

"How do you know this?"

"The Prince told me. Now, come on! I need your help."

He seemed to be processing everything for a moment, caught between believing her and just going back to bed. Something in her eyes, though, told him that things were definitely not okay. "We'll take the helicopter. I'll get you as close as I can, and you can parachute down. We can pick a rendezvous point once we know where he is, and if he's still alive."

* * *

It had been almost too easy. He would have gone sooner had Wy not cornered him like she had. She hadn't seemed to suspect anything, so that was good. Still, he felt bad as he snuck out of the room towards the upper decks. It was almost like lying, and he didn't want to hurt her like that. But this could be his only chance to get his brother back. It had to be done.

Under the cover of night, he was able to Shadow Meld and move through the darkness completely unseen. He knew his way around the Platform better than anyone, so it took him almost no time at all to find a suitable helicopter. With a bit of magic and skill, he was able to unlock the thing and start it up. By the time the Guards had taken notice, it was too late to stop him. He was off and headed towards New Camelot, and the difficult part of his impromptu mission.


	7. E-01, C-07

Episode 01: Welcome to the New World

Chapter 07

_Great Millennium Tree, hear us now. Lend me your strength, and shield us from the evil that calls itself Mrrlyn. Protect us, save us._

…_Please._

The vibrations of metal hooves echoed through the ground as the stampeding group reached the stream. Seeing as how Sealand just knelt there doing nothing, Wy took it upon herself to make alternative plans. Reaching for the small radio attached to her belt, she pushed the button and spoke.

"Gil, we need an extraction, and we need it fast."

A somewhat staticky reply followed. "Where are you guys? I'm coming around to circle New Camelot again."

_Shit, he'll never make it here on time._ "We're due south, inside a ley line. I'll send up a flare. Hurry!" With that, she closed the channel, moving the device back to its place before she removed her small pack and took out a flare gun. The red ball of phosphorescence shot up through the blue of the ley line to hang in the night sky.

By now, the knights had begun to circle the pair, yet surprisingly they had stopped attacking. Neither guns nor bows were pointed at lethal areas. They were not here to kill the two Nations; they were here to capture them.

"Surrender, child of the planet," the cloaked and hooded figure of Mrrlyn demanded in a baritone, decidedly all too-human voice for something so evil. He spurred his metallic steed forward out of the ring, hand extended in a gesture of false peace.

"Fuck off, Beardo. We don't want none of what you're selling," Wy called out, pulling a laser pistol from her pack. She cocked it straight at Mrrlyn's forehead, but she was pretty sure it wouldn't do anything. A powerful, inter-dimensional alien, taken out by a single shot from a laser pistol? It just didn't seem like the kind of spectacular boon the universe was about to just give out, but she needed to do _something_ to stall for time. If Mrrlyn had wanted them dead, they would be by now. Negotiating was about the only card Wy had to play at the moment.

"You are making a mistake, child," the thing disguised as an old man said. Despite the protections she had on her to guard against magic and psionics, the creature's words were starting to sound more seductive by the syllable. Still, she didn't feel the press of another mind against the will of her own. Why not? What was Mrrlyn playing at? "You came to rescue your comrade, only to discover that he is more well off than the two of you. The Apocalypse has left scars on you both; do you not want to see them healed? To live happily and securely at last, after three hundred years of sorrow and suffering?"

"You're not going to make us your weapons, Mrrlyn. Might as well just kill us now." Glancing towards Sealand, Wy noticed that he still hadn't moved. What the fuck was he doing? Why wasn't it working? Was he somehow paralyzed by magic, or something? _Fuck, Sea. Get up. Do something!_

"We're not going to kill you, dear. We just want you to come with us, to the castle where you'll be protected and cared for."

"Fuck, just shut up already," Wy growled, firing a shot at Mrrlyn out of aggravation. The laser simply disappeared before even reaching the being. That did not mean it was without effect, however.

"Alright," Mrrlyn scowled before turning to his henchmen. "Capture her. Cut off the other's head. I only wanted the female, anyways."

In silence, three of the knights dismounted and marched up to where the two Nations were. They, like their fellow knights, were decked from head to toe in black armour that was most likely magicked in some way. One carried a massive and wicked-looking sword in both hands, the other two one-handed maces. By themselves, the figures were imposing enough to make weaker-willed individuals surrender.

Wy moved to place herself between Sea and the approaching knights, and fired another shot from her pistol. As before, the laser evaporated before hitting her target, the knight with the sword. Swearing, she threw the useless thing to the ground, and reached into her pack once more. Grasping the handle, Wy wasted no time pulling her glaive from the dimensional pocket. Other than the runes that decorated both ends of the two meter long pole of dark wood and the forty-centimeter long, thin blade at the tip, the weapon was rather plain. It didn't need to be fancy to kill, after all.

Without breaking stride, the knights continued walking towards her. It was disconcerting to see your enemy remain so unchanged after making it obvious you were a threat. It made Wy a bit nervous. She had no way of knowing whether the knights were so protected by magic that absolutely nothing she could do would affect them. For all she knew, even her glaive might disappear once it hit them. But trying was still better than giving up.

When one of the knights with a mace (a bear etched into his chest plate) came within striking distance, she faked a strike aimed at his head. He moved to block it, and would have had she not pulled back the blade to slide by him harmlessly, before reversing her motion with the blade now aimed at his armpit, one of the few areas not covered by armour. Unfortunately, the other knight with a mace (this one with a fox inscribed in metal) grabbed her weapon before it could hit, and pulled it towards himself. Unwilling to let go of her only means of defense, Wy let herself move forward with the motion, rolling between the two knights even as they moved to strike at her.

Back on her feet behind them, she turned around faster than they could in their bulky suits of metal. Slashing out, she caught the Bear behind the knee. Blood spurted and the knight fell to one knee, but he did not cry out in pain. They were either well trained, well brainwashed, or possibly inhuman and unable to feel pain. Fox took a step towards her, mace raised, but she dodged him easily. Spotting an opening, she aimed the tip of the blade for one of the eye slits, but was intercepted at the last moment. Having knocked her blade to the side, Fox stepped within her defensive radius and swung again. She managed to roll out of the way again, but just barely. The mace had clipped the side of her head.

Jumping back and away, she placed her fingers to her head only for them to come back dabbed in blood. The pause also worked to allowed her to notice that the knight with the sword had not stopped to fight her. He had continued on towards Sealand, and was nearly at the place where Sea was kneeling.

"Shit," she swore, ducking another swing. She had to get over there, and fast. Ignoring Fox, she attempted to make a dash for the other knight, but was stopped by Bear. The knight was clearly giving it his all to stay standing despite the blood that gushed from his leg. She'd been careless not to notice him, or the mace now descending on her unprotected head until it was a bit late. Lifting the pole arm up horizontally, she was able to block his strike as the shafts of their weapons met. Using her Nation strength, she kept their weapons locked. The knights had been given enchantments for Superhuman Strength that much was certain.

Shifting her weight unexpectedly, she was able to throw Bear off-balance even as she narrowly squeezed by him, giving him a good shove with the blunt end of her pole arm to knock him to the ground. The injured knee was clearly his downfall. Now, with no one in her way, she pushed off from the ground at full tilt. She had to stop that knight before it was too late.

Her run was interrupted before it could even properly begin. Wy felt a sharp tug on her scalp, which forced her to stop. Fox must have grabbed her hair! She was half-way through turning around to defend against an attack, when she felt a sharp pain hit her abdomen. The strike forced the wind out of her, causing her to stumble. All it took was a booted foot to trip her own, and she was down.

The pain, to say the least, was excruciating. She knew she wouldn't die from it, but that didn't mean that receiving such massive damage to her organs was in any way easy. Temporarily paralyzed, she could do little but take in a deep, painful, broken breath as the gloved hand in her hair forced her head up to watch the scene unfold. The knight with the sword had reached Sealand, and was standing over him like a determined executioner.

"Quite a shame, my dear. You fought so well," Mrrlyn said in a sympathetic tone that only made her hate him more. "But, you see, I always win. Now, kill the other one, and let's be done here."

"No! Sea!" she called out, the taste of blood on her tongue as the knight's cleaver was lifted high into the air. She wanted to close her eyes, but was compelled to watch on in horror. Her heart stopped even as it caught in her throat. Time slowed to a trickle with the sword trapped with its point upward. Eventually, though, it was going to come down.

_This can't be happening, not after everything…Sea, get up! Fight!_

A nanosecond later and the entire area was bathed in light. The flash was brief, but powerful, leaving them all temporarily blinded. When the spots cleared, the scene revealed the knight dead on the ground, his sword a smoldering red from having been struck by lightning.

After that, all Hell broke loose around the pair of Nations. Like a furious rain, bolts of lightning descended from out of nowhere, striking at Mrrlyn and the knights, and nothing else. It was only by the grace of Mrrlyn's protective spells that they didn't all drop dead immediately. From her place on the ground, Wy watched on in amazement as curtain after curtain of blue lightning struck all around her and Sea. The heat they gave off was intense, and yet somehow not painful in the least.

As if things couldn't get any worse for Mrrlyn and his evil band of servants, a vicious wind began to pick up. Except, it wasn't really wind, it was energy, and it began tossing the knights and their steeds about as if they were merely dead leaves in a tornado.

A ley line storm. That's what was happening. They usually occurred naturally and randomly along ley lines, and anything caught in it usually got more than a little fucked up. There was no way this one was random, though. It must have been Sealand, and his…meditating, or whatever.

Somehow, in the chaos around them, Wy managed to spot Mrrlyn, cape half-singed and hood blown off. The creature resembled an elderly man, all right, but there was something in its eyes that didn't exactly resonate human, let alone good. Whatever it was, they had made it pretty mad if that angry grimace was anything to go by.

_You're not getting away from me that easily_, the voice of Mrrlyn sounded in her head before a barrage of pain was unleashed upon her. It felt like her head was going to split in two as a million voices sounded their agony in her mind. Simultaneously, she found herself unable to move, to escape; Mrrlyn's magic had completely incapacitated her in just a thought.

Pointing to the place Sealand was supposed to be, Mrrlyn unleashed what was sure to be a deadly bolt of something from his fingertips. Whatever spell the creature had chosen left only a small crater in the ground. Before Wy's very eyes, Sealand had vanished, gone before the spell could hit him.

A beastly sound of frustration emanated from Mrrlyn. From the corner of her eye, Wy caught the wizard pointing at her next. She closed her eyes, praying to be saved, and sure enough, she felt a gentle pressure on her shoulder followed by a whispering of words both ethereal and earthly.

_I'm sorry, Wy._

Then everything went black

* * *

For all Wy knew, she'd been unconscious for just a second. Her senses returned to her one by one, starting with the smell of the ocean air and followed by the unyielding touch of metal beneath her fingertips instead of grass. There were people around her, making a lot of panicky noise. When at last the darkness cleared from her eyes, she saw what her ears had already told her: people were running hither thither around her prone body. She lifted herself up weakly, two pairs of hands helping her on her feet. Once vertical, she swayed precariously only to be caught by her arm and steadied. Tasting blood on her tongue, she coughed only to have some of the red substance fall from between her lips.

"Miss Wy! Miss Wy, are you injured?" she heard a young, worried voice ask.

"Hmm, yeah, a bit. Nothing I can't handle," she said. Members of the Sealand Guard, most of whom she recognized, surrounded her, and they chuckled lightly at her comment. It was the future, with magic and aliens and all kinds of weird shit. There was no need for Nations to remain in hiding anymore. Everyone knew she couldn't possibly die from her injuries.

Looking around herself more carefully now that she had full control over her body, she noticed that Moore had been the one to catch her. His stoic face revealed a trace of concern, prompting her to ask, "What happened?"

"We thought you might be able to tell us that," Lieutenant Commander Travis answered, making his way through the small crowd. As ever, he was an imposing figure who demanded respect and compliance from his subordinates. They'd butted heads before. "Where's Sealand?"

Hastily checking the Platform for her missing companion, she came to the same question. Where _was_ Sea? She remembered…fighting, pain, the sword, the storm, Mrrlyn, then Sealand was gone, and everything had gone dark…

As she was processing the past few minutes, a bright bluish oval appeared a few metres away, bathing the immediate area in soft light. Everyone watched as out of the portal stepped Sealand. Relief flooded Wy. He was safe, they were safe. Then, as the portal faded into nothingness, Sea's knees hit the floor, his head following soon afterwards.

"Sea!"


	8. E-01, C-08

Episode 01: Welcome to the New World

Chapter 08

Judging by the steady beeping that was going off just over his shoulder, Sealand deemed it safe to assume he was in the medical bay. The sickeningly clean whiteness of the room and all its contents assured him of this fact. Damn, something bad must have happened if anyone had thought it would make a difference putting him in here. Nations usually healed too fast for medical aid to fully kick in. Though, his left shoulder was aching a little, so maybe a little rest was a good thing.

Sitting upright on the cot, he noticed that someone _had_ had a little sense. He was still in his clothes from the mission (screw those hospital robes), though all traces of weapons were gone. As an added bonus, someone had used Forcebonds to chain his wrist to the cot. _Great_, he thought sarcastically, falling back onto the mattress. If he really wanted, he could just tear the cot from the floor, and bring the darn thing with him. But…Chris would probably skin him for the damages…

"Oh, you're awake," Gilbert stated blandly, walking into the room with a steaming cup of coffee in his hand.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Sealand snapped, not too impressed that he didn't even have the choice to walk away from this conversation. He sat up as best he could without having his arm stretched out awkwardly behind himself to keep an eye on Gilbert while the other Nation sat down on the only chair in the room.

"I think the better question is: why are _you_ here? I didn't give you that information just so you could go risk your life." Prussia did not sound impressed in the least. The pair stared each other down for a few long seconds, before Gilbert sighed. "Yes, I admit. It was a terribly senseless war. I'm sorry for what my officials made you do, Sealand, but I did not give the order to shoot."

"You didn't do anything to keep it from happening, either."

"And what was I to do? How many times do I have to explain to you that nothing I could have said would have done a damn thing? It didn't work in 1939, and it wouldn't have worked a hundred years ago during the Bloody Campaign, either."

"You didn't even try."

"No, but you didn't either. You could have walked away from the battlefield. Instead, you pushed on with your forces," Gilbert counteracted.

It was Sealand's turn to sigh. They'd gone over this conversation a dozen times since the Campaign, but no amount of apologizing could ever make right the wrongs of the past. "Had I left, they would have gone with me. And then Triax would have attacked here next. It wasn't my place to risk the lives of my citizens."

"But it's okay to kill someone else's citizens? Someone else's people?" Gilbert asked with mild venom as Sealand looked away. "You were young back then, but I hope you understand now. War brings out the worst in Nations, because it forces us to choose our own over all others. You have to let it go, Sealand, because that won't be the last war you'll have to fight in."

The room fell silent for an unbearably long while as Sea fought against himself. It wasn't fair to all the innocents he'd killed if he just let go, just forgot about them. But it wasn't fair to the living to stay stuck in the past. Seeking escape from this train of thought, he asked, "Why did you tell me, if you knew I might've done something stupid?"

"Because I didn't think you would honestly be this reckless. You're not a dumb kid, but your heart gets in the way sometimes." Gilbert took a sip of coffee before continuing. "And because you asked me to keep tabs on England, and the state of affairs on the island. Things do not bode well when Mrrlyn is making trips to key nexus points. Your little stunt could have just saved thousands of people, or, at least, a bit of time."

"Things rarely bode well when Mrrlyn does anything. Hopefully, we put a dent in his plans tonight, though." Sealand looked at Prussia questioningly. "It _is_ still night, yeah?"

The gray-haired Nation checked his watch. "I'd say not really. It's about 6am."

"I've been unconscious for a few _hours_?"

"Yup. The Doc figures whatever spell you casted just sapped all the energy out of ya. Also, your body's been trying to heal that nasty wound."

"What nasty wound?" Gilbert pointed to his left shoulder. His shirt was tattered there; half shredded half torn to make room for the bandages. Using the opposite and not tied down hand, he unwrapped the linen to reveal three gashes resembling claw marks. Unable to contain his shock, Sealand exclaimed, "What the fuck?!"

"Curious, isn't it?" Gilbert inquired, completely calm. "It's not healing like normal wounds should on us. Doc says there are traces of energy that could be effecting the ability to heal, but it's not a kind of energy she's seen before." Changing to a completely serious tone, Gil lent forward and spoke more softly. "What happened out there, Sea?"

The sight of the gashes worked to jog his memory. Of the actual experience of inter-dimensional travel, there was very little Sealand could organize to form a logical series of events. The fourth dimension was as indescribable to denizens of the third dimension as the third dimension was to denizens of the second. The little he could recollect took the form of basic sensations and emotions.

_The outside world practically disappeared as the voice of the Millennium Tree flooded his mind. It was a wondrous sound, like a powerful song sung by a myriad of voices neither masculine nor feminine. _Child, We can break the spell that holds your magic captive, but the cursed one, Mrrlyn, will not be distracted for long. It will interrupt most of your spells, but there is one it cannot stop. You know of what We speak.

_Indeed, Sealand did know, but he'd never used the spell before. It was dangerous, complex, and rather risky. Still, the Tree was right. There were few other options, and, as long as the spell succeeded, it would eliminate the threat of having to deal with Mrrlyn. There were worse beasts that existed between dimensions, but his chances of meeting one were much slimmer than the chances of defeating Mrrlyn._

_Sensing his acceptance, the Tree continued._ Very well. The spell will be broken as We sever our connection. Cast quickly and without fail, young one. And never use this spell again.

_An instant later and he was back in his own body. He didn't even have time to fully register the chaos of the ley line storm before Mrrlyn's spell snapped, and magic returned to him in a rush. Drawing in all the power from the ley line he needed, he cast Fourth Dimension Transformation, and was promptly shifted into the next dimension._

Everything became blurry after this. He remembered being temporarily confused with his new surroundings, before the intentions of the beings around him were made clear. Mrrlyn, furious, aiming at Wy as she mentally screamed for help. Phasing halfway back into the third dimension, he had reached out and touched her shoulder. Whispering to her, _I'm sorry, Wy_, he had used Sensory Deprivation to virtually knock her out before teleporting her back to Sealand. Suddenly arriving in a new area was usually pretty frightening. Allowing her senses to ease into it had definitely been the less psychologically damaging option.

With Wy safe, Sea had shifted back fully into the fourth dimension, but not before witnessing Mrrlyn scream his anger and frustration into the night sky. After that, he recalled travelling a distance that was short in the fourth dimension, but decidedly not in the third. It had been almost serene, sensing forests and cliffs and ocean pass somewhere far, how to say, below? The whole thing could best be described as someone in the third dimension walking across a huge, 2D map, and yet the explanation would still be missing so many pieces.

And then, there had been pain, and fear, the sensation of being chased. Something, some fourth dimensional creature, must have hunted him down and attacked him. The wound was proof enough of this. Nations, themselves third dimensional beings, were not nearly as immune to the fourth dimension as they were to their own, it would seem.

There was something else, though, something he was just barely able to grasp. A cry of pain, a monstrous roar, the call for help, and then…the sound (and yet also a sensation) of a clear bell ringing through the fabric of space itself. Soft light, gentle hands, the feeling of safety, and then…nothingness. He must have passed out either in the fourth dimension, or in the process of shifting, because he couldn't remember arriving back home.

Of course, he told none of this to Gilbert. Instead, he replied, "I don't know. A lot of it is still fuzzy…"

The older Nation eyed him suspiciously, but didn't push for the truth. Luckily, Wy chose that moment to walk into the room. Her worried expression lifted into one of ecstatic relief when she saw Sealand was awake. She practically jumped onto the cot trying to seat herself on the edge. "Sea! Oh my gosh, are you okay? How do you feel? What happened to your shoulder? How did we get out of the countryside? Do you need anything? A glass of water, maybe?"

"Whoa, Wy, calm down," Sea politely suggested, lifting his one free hand up in a gesture of surrender. Once she got going, it was hard to stop Hurricane Wy. "I'm fine, see? Just a few scratches." His tone became more serious and concerned when he noticed the bruise on her forehead. "You're hurt."

Wy placed careful fingertips to her bump, wincing slightly at how tender it still was. "This? This is nothin'. It looked way worse earlier, not to mention the internal bleeding. But it's all good now."

"Fuck, Wy, I'm so-"

"Don't apologize. You did what you needed to do to get us out of there, and I did, too. It could have been worse, and I'm sure we've both been through worse, so don't worry about it." Her luminous smile put his worries at ease. They'd heal, and she didn't blame him for what had happened despite how much he deserved it. She wanted to put the incident in the past instead of letting it come between them, so he would do that for her.

"So, is Chris mad about the whole stealing a heli and nearly getting us both killed thing?" Sea asked, pretty sure he already knew the answer.

Wy nodded vigorously. "Oh, he's _furious_. You're pretty much screwed."

"That's…encouraging."

"Well, I'm just going to leave you two to catch up," Gilbert announced, rising from the chair and strolling out of the room without bothering to wait for a reply. He didn't even glance back as the two remaining Nations watched him leave.

"You know," Wy began soon after Prussia's departure. "Without Gil's help, I wouldn't have been able to get to you on time."

"Yeah?" Sealand asked, not thrilled that the conversation had turned to the German.

"Yeah. He was able to get me close with his helicopter. He stuck around in case we needed an immediate extraction, too."

"How kind of him."

Wy leveled him an unimpressed glare. "You guys might have your differences, but we are all Nations. We may be some of the few that are left, also. He was just looking out for us, Sea."

Sighing, the blond acknowledged his defeat. He rarely won arguments against Wy, anyways, as stubborn as she was. "I know, but that doesn't mean I like him any better."

"Good enough," Wy admitted. "Now, I'll go find Doctor Deng to remove the bonds for you."

* * *

The trip to Prince Christopher's office was nothing short of stressing for Sealand. The summoning itself had involved a clipped e-mail from the young monarch on his handheld demanding more than requesting his and Wy's presence immediately. Despite this, he hadn't been allowed to leave Dr. Deng's sight without her first tending to his shoulder. It was only after she had forced his arm into a sling, quite against his will, that she permitted the two Nations to leave her ward.

"So, he's a little mad. It's not like he's going to lock you up for a decade," Wy tried to rationalize. She'd never seen Sealand so nervous. "Can you slow down a bit, Sea?" She was practically jogging to keep up with his long strides.

"Hmm? Sorry," he muttered, as if distracted. He did slow down, though, much to Wy's relief. His head was too full of worries to have noticed the change in pace. Why else would Chris call upon them so soon if it wasn't to rebuke him? What was his punishment going to be? How badly had he disappointed his monarch? Was there anything he could do to regain this lost trust?

Before he knew it, they were standing in front of the large oak doors that marked off the office from the outside. Sealand paused, not quite prepared to handle the repercussions of his thoughtless actions.

"Come on, Sea. There's no way it's going to be _that_ bad," Wy whispered, nudging him forward a little. He wasn't so sure, but he had little choice. The door swung open easily.

"Ah, Miss Thompson, Mr. Kirkland." Sealand internally winced. "Welcome. Please, seat yourselves. We shall commence the briefing with your account first, if you don't mind, Wy."

"Yes, sir." She began with the party, and ended with her arrival in the medical bay. Afterwards, it was Sea's turn. He decided it would be better to tell the story truthfully than lie in the attempt to spare himself some punishment. Chris was silent for quite some time after he'd finished, standing up to gaze out across the ocean floor, a view that the floor to ceiling window allowed.

"You've done some pretty reckless things in your life, Sealand, but running a suicidal solo mission to rescue England without even half of a plan? Not to mention fourth dimensional travel…" Christopher Bates finally commented, pacing before the glass and making it a point not to look at his Nation. His tone was simultaneously cool and terrifyingly vicious, a cold fire to be sure. "This is probably the worst, and during my reign as well…"

Stopping his pacing, Chris sat back down heavily in his chair with a sigh, face in his hands. More than anything, it was that sigh that really made Sealand feel ashamed of his actions. He'd really fucked up this time, and apologies alone wouldn't fix anything; they had to be backed by actions.

"I can't blame you for wanting to do what you did, but did you even stop to think what would happen if you were captured, or killed? The effects could have been monstrous on the principality." Looking his Nation dead in the eye, Prince Chris's expression was a mixture of unrelenting seriousness and hurt. He must have been able to see the shame and regret in Sealand's eyes, because his countenance softened. "You have to start thinking ahead more, Sea, for everyone's sake."

"Yes, sir," he responded, sounding a little more downhearted than he had planned, but not any less sincere. Sitting up straighter and gathering a professional air about himself, Prince Chris decided he had berated Sealand enough, and it was time to dish out the punishment.

"I'm sending the both of you to North America on an assignment. You are to stay under the radar. If I hear about you causing any trouble…" He stared pointedly at Sealand who shrunk back just a little.

Clearing her throat, Wy asked, in a soft voice, "Where exactly, sir?"

"According to the intel we received from Triax, you'll be dropped off in the Lazlo region." Chris paused, ensuring he had their complete attention. "Canada's whereabouts have been discovered, thanks to Triax's efforts." This had both Nations sitting on the edge of their seats. "He's been spotted alongside an unidentified woman, so you may have to exercise caution before disclosing your status as Nations. I have the file here for you to review before you go. You are to assess Canada's situation, and determine whether he should be retrieved or not, and that's it. You'll have two weeks, as per usual. And you'll be going alone, just the two of you."

"What?" Sealand couldn't help but exclaim. Surely he was joking.

"This is a clandestine mission. The more people are involved, the harder it'll be to keep it that way. Besides, I'm sure you'll encounter few problems, being superhuman and all." Again, the Prince made use of pointed glaring once again by indicating Sealand's injured shoulder. "Wy, you'll be in charge out in the field. I expect daily reports on your findings."

With the last two sentences, Sea had been shocked out of his ability to speak. Not only was he being forced into a boring reconnaissance job, but he was going to be babysat. By Wy, no less!

Then again, just the two of them, alone for two weeks …

"I'll provide more details later in the week," Christopher continued. "You guys are still pretty banged up, and I hear your shoulder is going to take some time, Sea. Once you're both in peak condition, we'll set a date for the mission to begin."

"Yes, sir," the Nations responded in unison, sensing the dismissal. Outside of the office, Sealand grimaced as he adjusted his injured shoulder in its sling. He made no move to comment on what had just transpired.

"Hey, at least he didn't ground you from missions," Wy affirmed, earning an unreadable glance from Sealand as they walked down the hall. "You and me, huh? This is gonna be fun!"


	9. E-01, C-09

Episode 01: Welcome to the New World

Chapter 09

Tension had been building up between Wy and Sealand for the past few days. Outside of making their reports to the Prince, they hadn't talked about what had happened at all. But every time Sea thought she was going to say something, she turned away or changed the subject. It didn't encourage him in the least to ask his own questions knowing that she was also keeping hers back.

It was during lunch on the third day after the impromptu mission that Sealand finally hit a nerve. He had made an offhand comment concerning the helicopter he'd left in the dimensional envelope back in England, wondering when it was going to run out and the faeries would get their hands on it, when Wy, without a word, stood up and walked out of the mess hall. It took a moment for what had just happened to register, but when it did, Sea was practically running out of the room after her.

"Wy, stop!" he called after her once he'd left the room, but she did no such thing. Two Guards approaching the mess hall, Evans and McKinney, made room for her to pass, looking to Sealand quizzically as he caught up to them. He didn't bother to stop to explain (he barely knew what he'd done, anyways), speeding past even as Wy turned the corner. "Come on, Wy! Was it something I said?"

Turning around the corner, Sea was mightily surprised when a hand grabbed the front of his shirt from out of nowhere, and dragged him into an empty room. Wy didn't let go of him for a second as she shoved him back against the door, effectively closing it and pinning him at the same time. He couldn't help but wince a little as the motion jarred his left shoulder, which was still in the process of healing. At least he didn't need the stupid sling anymore.

"Something you said? It was what you _did_, Sealand!" Shit, she must've been pretty pissed off to not be using nicknames. "You promised me you'd limit your temporal powers. You know how dangerous they are!"

"No one got hurt, Wy. In fact, it was thanks to my magic that we got out of there alive," Sea argued, though not vehemently. He didn't want to enrage her any further, but he also wanted her to see his point.

"That's not what I meant. They aren't dangerous for other people, they are dangerous for _you_." In her frustration, she pushed him into the door with greater force, making it slightly more difficult for Sealand to breathe. "You said so yourself, that having that kind of power is corrosive for the soul, turning men into monsters. But you still took that step."

"I had no choice," Sealand defended. Her words cut like icy blades through his heart. She was right, and it had been dangerous. Who really knew how the fourth dimension could have changed him, or how much it _had_ changed him? He didn't feel any different, but such things meant little when it came to magic and its effects.

…Could it have reawakened something dark within him?

"Yes, you did!" Wy practically shouted, though her voice wavered with uncertainty. "You could have used some other spell."

"Mrrlyn would have cancelled them all out."

"You could have waited for Gilbert," she continued.

"Wy, I had no idea he was even close by."

"You…" She bowed her head to keep from making eye contact. Her grip slackened, but remained clinging to the fabric of his shirt. "I thought you were going to die…And I couldn't protect you."

Sea stood there, simultaneously shocked and touched at just how worried she had been over him. Even before the Cataclysm, they'd lost contact as close friends. Everyone at that time had been caught up in the whirlwind of shifting allegiances as states became aware of their global power after some fifty years of peace. Not even the Golden Age of Humanity, as it had been called, could stand up to the human need to dominate and emerge on top. And what a better way to end the long peace of the twenty-first century than with an Apocalypse?

Two hundred years later, and having only spent about ten of those years together, their friendship was still as strong as ever. Gently, Sea pulled the Aussie Nation in for a hug. She didn't resist, and when he felt her arms wrap around him, his heart flooded with warmth.

"I'm sorry for putting you in danger, Wy, and putting myself in danger like that. I let my emotions determine my actions, and it led to some pretty stupid decisions." He couldn't help but smirk a bit with his next words in mind. "It's funny, isn't it? Usually the guy shows up to rescue the girl."

His comment, at the very least, got a weak smile out of her, as they broke apart. "Well, considering how good you are at making food, you deserve to be in the kitchen more than me," Wy stated slyly.

"Hey, come on now, don't be sexist," Sealand stated in a mock-haughty voice. "Men are just as great at cooking as women, and shouldn't be denied the equal opportunity to prove it." She laughed, which made him smile, but there was still something between them that needed addressing. "Look, Wy, while we're getting all these confessions out, I have to ask you something, about that night." This got her full attention. "You used magic to summon the water that flooded England's room. But you can't use magic. So, how did you do it?"

She fell silent, avoiding eye contact once more. Something gave him the inkling that whatever she was about to say would just be an excuse not to tell him the truth. He made up his mind not to call her out on it. "I stole a few amulets from a group of Roadgangers a long time ago back home."

"Well, I guess they finally came in handy, huh?" She nodded, and looked back to him. As they locked eyes, they came to the mutual conclusion to forgive and let go of anything that had come between them since that night three days ago.

"We should probably get back," Wy said, her usual, if not somewhat mischievous, smile back in place. "You know, before some unseemly rumours start spreading."

Sealand let out a light-hearted chuckle, opening the door and holding it for Wy to exit first. "Can't blame the boys for wanting their daily dose of gossip. I swear, they're worse than old maids most days."

"Speaking of gossip," Wy interrupted. "Did you here that Moore supposedly went out on a date?"

"No way! He's not a robot? Craziness."

Wy gave him a friendly shove as they made their way back to the mess hall. "I hear she's pretty smokin', too."

"Hall must be jealous."

"Of Moore?"

"Nah, of the woman," Sea clarified with a grin. He earned another shove for it, but the sound of Wy's laughter was totally worth it.

* * *

After six days, Doctor Deng deemed his shoulder wound sufficiently healed enough to clear him for active duty. Having spent the majority of the week lazing around and picking up odd jobs around the Complex, the announcement came as a relief to Sealand. The boredom alone had been killing him, never mind the loneliness. Wy had accepted Chris's offer to take up Sea's shifts as a Guard, mostly for a little extra cash after her shopping spree the week before.

But now that was all over, and it was time to get back to work. Of course, this meant going over plans and packing for their mission to North America.

"Alright, here's how it's going to go down," began Chief Commissioner, and General, Durant, head of the Nation Recovery Project. For a man of his position, he was fairly young, somewhere in his early thirties. But he had an old soul: straightforward, curt, and honest, he had no use for the pomp and fanfare of politics. It was the reason Sea had approved him for the position in the first place (an informality that had begun after Sea himself had stepped down from the position).

"We'll fly you in over this area here just south-west of Lazlo. Once you land, you should be near where Milton used to be, though it's called Burleston today. It's a small farm town, fewer than a thousand inhabitants by our guess. Like Lazlo, they're friendly to D-Bees, so your magic won't stick out, Sealand. We've no reason to see them as a threat, so don't make yourselves into one." The two Nations nodded vigorously when Durant turned a stern glare on them.

"From there, transportation into Lazlo will be left to you to figure out. You'll have all the coordinates set up on your handhelds before you go, including the area of Lazlo we believe Canada to be in. It's a fairly mundane recon job, and considering you're both gods know how many times my age, I'm sure you're both familiar with the drill by now."

"Geez, you make us sound old, Durant," Sealand joked. Wy stifled a chuckle.

Durant's permanent scowl didn't change one bit. "Old, but not wise, apparently. Don't forget that Wy is in charge for this one, because of your…misadventure."

Sea sighed internally. He just wasn't going to catch a break on the whole New Camelot thing, was he? "Yes, sir."

"Good. Now scram. Enough paperwork has piled up on my desk to last me until the next Apocalypse."

Outside the Chief Commissioner's office, Wy couldn't help but ask, "What's up with him? I mean, he's usually serious, but never this…bitter."

"His kids are still sick, though they aren't in critical condition anymore," Sealand explained. "They were at their worst the night just before you got back, which is why he wasn't there for the debriefing."

Wy said nothing for a bit as they made their way towards the Equipment Room for the NRP. "I forget sometimes that humans are so frail, especially their kids."

"Yeah…" Sea conceded, memories of Princess Sarah flashing through his mind unbidden. "So are Nations lately, though."

* * *

They were all packed up, prepared, and ready to leave for North America when morning came. Still, there was just one thing left for Sealand to do.

"Leaving soon for a mission, Sealand?" Doctor Deng asked him as he entered the room. She was recording information from the monitor onto her clipboard, and hadn't even bothered to turn around. She didn't have to. He was the only person besides the doctors and nurses who visited this room in particular.

"Yeah. Just thought I'd check in on them," he answered. "How are they doing?"

The doctor scribbled something down. "Same as always, I'm afraid." The stoic Vietnamese woman looked back to the monitor, jotted something else down, and generally did not appear as if she wanted to engage in conversation. After all, what more was there to say?

Standing at the foot of Belgium's hospital bed, Sea couldn't help but sigh. It had been seventy-two years since they'd found Belgium, fifty-four for Spain who lay in the bed next to hers, the only other one in the room. In all that time, not once had either of them awoken from their comas. They'd likely passed out and stayed that way since the beginning of the post-Apocalyptic age, their bodies unable to cope with the dramatic loss of everything from population to culture to economics sustained during the Cataclysm, and the years after.

He'd led the group that found Belgium buried under a pile of overgrown rubble. She'd been saved from scavengers both human and animal, but that didn't stop the passage of time. Her body had looked emaciated beyond belief, practically a skeleton. Not even starvation and dehydration could kill a comatose Nation. He wasn't there for it, but Spain's body had been found much the same way, draped over Portugal's grave, that they assumed had been dug by Spain himself. Netherlands's, too, though he was being held by the New German Republic, having been found by them.

Now they looked healthy, normal. One could almost assume they were just sleeping. A sleep no one had any reason to believe they'd ever awake from. There were no such things as Belgium and Spain anymore, after all. Nothing for them to come back to.

Except for himself, Wy, Prussia, and England, the only other Nations that were known to have survived were Germany (who never left the NGR), Austria (who'd been discovered alive and conscious during the Bloody Campaign, and who now resided in the NGR as well), Poland (though neither Sealand nor Wy had seen him in person since before the Cataclysm, forcing them to rely on the word of the NGR), and now Canada. Eleven out of what had once been a couple hundred.

Still, there was hope that more Nations had survived, even if it was only at the most basic level. Few people now had access to anything more technologically advanced than horses and pens, let alone hovercraft and computers. Long-distance travel and communications were not only daunting, but nearly impossible. Considering the added danger of supernaturally evil beings roaming the world, it was little wonder that more Nations hadn't contacted them.

And the NPR could only cover so much of Europe at a time, let alone the world. An impossible task? Probably, but it wasn't enough to make him give up.

Without another word, Sealand turned and left the room. Doctor Deng watched him go from the corner of her eye, adjusting her glasses unnecessarily.

* * *

He was still in a somber mood by the time he made it up to the Platform. It clashed with the beautiful day that seemed to be forming: clear blue skies, calm waters, the soft yellow sun floating above the horizon. Not even the gulls were screaming at each other at this hour.

Even the Platform was relatively quiet. No new arrivals, no one leaving, except for their small team, of course. Walking over to the military transport plane, Sea noticed that it was practically all packed up (not that they were bringing much). A few Guards were there helping out Wy and the two pilots, all of them members of the NRP. Since the Nation Recovery Project was mostly a side gig for the military, it didn't require its own permanent force. Members of the NRP were mostly volunteers from the Sealand Guard. There wasn't a face among the four men and one woman he didn't recognize. Except, maybe…

"You're…Nicholas, right?" Sea asked the youngest looking member of the group. He mustn't have been more than eighteen. And still green by how he perfectly saluted his Nation.

"Private Nicholas Fainomi'ir, sir!" The response earned him a round of chuckles from his comrades.

"Just Sealand is fine," the Nation said, cracking his own, albeit modest, smile. He generally fraternized with his fellow Guards regardless of their rank, and they, in turn, ignored his. So, to be reminded that he was technically a superior officer, well…it was a little embarrassing.

"Of course, Sealand, sir," the new guy, a half-elf according to his pointed but not elongated ears, answered, but he did, in fact, drop his salute.

"It's alright, Sea," said the D'norr woman Rahn'dek, clapping a firm hand onto Nicholas's shoulder, making the blond stagger somewhat. "After just a year of having to listen to your swooning over a certain miss, Nick here will be the one giving _you_ orders to shut up." The others laughed at her joke.

Unfortunately, Wy chose that moment to poke her head out. "Sea has a love interest?" she asked.

More laughter as Sealand actually face-palmed this time, mostly to hide his blush. "Are we ready to leave yet?" he inquired, searching for some way out of this mess.

"Yep, that's the last of it," she said, sliding the last crate into place.

"Great. Let's get going." Sensing another joke at his expense being prepared, he looked to the three Guards still standing around as their pilot, the seasoned veteran Manning, and co-pilot, the newbie Nicholas, left to take their places. "Aren't you guys on duty?"

"Yeah, yeah," one of the men, Copeland, said, brushing off the insincere command to get back to work. "Don't enjoy yourself _too_ much out there, Sea. You might just die of overexposure to fun."

"Thanks, guys," Sealand sighed before hopping into the back of the plane with Wy. It didn't take long before the plane was running, in place, and then finally up in the air, climbing higher and higher above the blue waves below.

Operation Canuck was a go.

* * *

Note: D'norr (also called Devilmen/women) are a peaceful race of D-Bees that generally, but not always, follow the path of magic and politics. Due to their red coloured skin, horns, and dark blue, nearly black, eyes, they've received the label "devils".


	10. E-01, Epilogue

Episode 01: Welcome to the New World

Epilogue

_Mother! Mother, did you hear? _The thoughts of her eldest came blazing into her mind in an inferno of giddy excitement. He'd always been the more outspoken one of the family.

_Yes, Rath. I heard it loud and clear._ The sound had been practically unavoidable, resonating across the dimensional divide and into the core of her being sharp and loud. It stirred something motherly in the old heart of hers.

Impatiently awaiting orders, her eldest couldn't help but ask, _What are we going to do?_

_I think,_ she began thoughtfully,_ that it's time we returned to Amahbret's planet._

* * *

Note: Amahbret is pronounced with the stress in the middle, and Rath is pronounced exactly like "wrath."


End file.
